


Conversations Over a Front Seat (tag)

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-14
Updated: 2006-06-14
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:03:23
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8710057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: A short Coda to Conversations Over a Front Seat





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Conversations Over a Front Seat (tag)

Conversations Over a Front Seat (tag)  
Characters: Sam/Dean  
Warning: Wincest   
Rating: Over 18  
  
  
  
"Where are we?" Sam dragged himself up to sitting in the backseat of the Impala. It smelled in the car, of wet clothes and hair and other things Sam didn't want to think about.  
  
"Bernice's Country Buffet, now serving breakfast." Dean twisted around, arm across the seat back. "Bacon, eggs, hash browns, big orange juice, do you good."  
  
"I'm not hungry. You go. I'll hang here."  
  
"In the car? Even if you don't want to eat will it kill you to come sit with me?"  
  
It might. "Dean."  
  
"No! We're not discussing it. Not now. Not on an empty stomach and without a coffee. And you need to eat something, you're too thin. You've lost like fifteen pounds since you been back and I don't like it."  
  
"Bully for you."  
  
"What the hell does that mean?"  
  
"It means, go eat breakfast and leave me alone." Sam ducked his head so he could better see the building across the street. "That's a motel over there. How about I get us a room? Or are we just passing through?"  
  
"No. This is close enough to Waterford, which is where we're going. So, yeah, we can stay at that motel but if you're checking us in you have to be able to bluff the credit card."  
  
"I have cash."  
  
"Sam! Stop giving me attitude!"  
  
Wrong tone.  
  
Sam climbed out of the car then started walking toward the motel.  
  
"Christ." Dean threw the car into gear, whipped around Sam (a bit too close and too fast) then crossed the road and parked in front of the motel. One room, two beds. TWO BEDS (why did that suddenly feel weird to say), paid for by Leo Polanski. Needed to get some cash though, couldn't get everything they needed with plastic – some places still asked for ID.   
  
By the time Dean returned to the car, Sam had finished his slow trek. They gathered their duffels and a few other essentials from the trunk then went into room 9, which was dark and didn't smell much better than the Impala.   
  
"I still don't want breakfast," Sam said, then started pawing through his duffel as if he actually needed something that was in there.  
  
"This is not going to be the new thing, this tension. We can't work like this and that means one of us could get hurt. Killed. So if this is already too much for you to handle then consider it over before it started."  
  
"You changed your mind," Sam said softly.  
  
"No! I didn't change my mind!" Dean yelled back. "I said I'd go along if it made us better, not worse. And hearing myself say that out loud I realize how stupid it is to think that complicating our lives with sex will make things easier."  
  
"Not easier. Safer."  
  
"What?"  
  
Sam slipped down to sitting on the edge of one bed. "I think it might make us. . . help us. . . know each other better. They can't get between us if we're one."  
  
"That's poetic." Dean sat down on the bed and noticed but didn't comment when Sam slid over. "And I appreciate the sentiment behind it but that's not the problem right now. Right now the problem is the other shoe."  
  
It was Sam's turn to say, "What?"  
  
"It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. We've made a decision and now it's who's going to take the next step and the step after that?" Dean turned and pulled one knee up on the bed. "Sam, if I take that step, will you come have breakfast with me? Actually eat food, not just push it around on the plate and break it into tiny bits?"  
  
"Eggs and toast but no bacon."  
  
"And juice. You need your vitamin C, I don't want you getting sick on me."  
  
"Okay, and juice. No hash browns, too greasy."  
  
"I love hash browns because they're greasy. So, can I have yours?"  
  
Sam opened his mouth to answer but the words never made it out because Dean had him by the back of the neck and was kissing him. Not a kiss you on lips to be silly kiss, but deep and needful and warm and Sam fell and fell and it was more than he'd ever imagined, ever hope for.   
  
"You didn't think I meant it," Dean said softly, when he broke the kiss. "You thought I was lying about wanting you. Just trying to make you feel less guilty about it." Their lips met once again, quick this time. "I meant it, Sam. I meant it in away I can't even explain and that scares me because now, knowing I can do what I just did whenever I want. . . " Dean pushed up off the bed. "I may just eat you up." There was no humor in his voice, nothing that might have made that last phrase sound cute or endearing.   
  
"Maybe it's what I need," Sam said, his voice even softer and smaller than it had been during the night.   
  
Dean let it hang there between them for a moment, then shoved it away as he always shoved things that grabbed him in the gut. "Well, what I need is breakfast and you promised, so get your ass in gear."  
  
"Let me change clothes first."  
  
"No! Come on. It's Bernice's Country Buffet not The Brown Derby."  
  
Sam laughed and it felt good. "What do you know about The Brown Derby?"  
  
Dean headed for the door. "I'm not stupid. It's a fancy restaurant in Hollywood where all the bigwig stars eat."   
  
"Yeah, like back in 1953." Sam followed. "You saw it on I Love Lucy."  
  
Dean whirled, shoved his finger in Sam's face. "Do not mock Lucy. That's classic comedy." And that gave them something unimportant to talk about over breakfast. Lucy learns to drive. Lucy and Ethel make candy and Vitameatavegamin – Dean knew that whole speech by heart.  
  
Sam had eggs, toast, juice and even the half strip of bacon that magically found its way to his plate.   
  
That which doesn’t kill you, makes you strong.


End file.
